Guardian
by post-apocalyptic-queer
Summary: "W-what did it-" angry with herself for letting her voice falter, Natalia cleared her throat carefully. She was afraid, truthfully afraid. Ana could hear it in her words and she couldn't blame her. "Who is it?" Natalia's voice did not falter this time around, her eyes steady.


Yelena Belova is evil.  
She's highly skilled: strong, smart, and knows how to take a hit like a champ. What's even worse than the fact that she could break a leg, sprain an ankle, take multiple punches to the stomach, bleed from her nose until it is dripping down the torso of her dress and still get back up and fight is that she is clever, and mean, but that word is a little childish. And if you know anything about Yelena Belova, you'll know she is anything but childish.

Natalia Romanova is a lot like Yelena. She to is exceptionally smart, strong for her age, can also endure a punch or two, and her "home" is the Red Room. Yes, they both have a lot in common, but that fails to change the fact that Natalia and Yelena do not mix, which is truly an understatement. If Yelena thought she wouldn't get caught, she would kill Natalia in her sleep. Natalia would probably do the same, even if she doesn't want to admit it.

Natalia, only a decade with the cunning of a seventeen year-old, hates Yelena Belova. Huh, yet another childish word.

"Natalia..."

Completely ignoring the hushed call of her name coming from behind her, Natalia kept her eyes straight forward, practically glued to the strands of ebony hair woven into a perfect, tight braid from the girl in front of her. Natalia's stomach growled furiously. After a language class, ballet practice (which was extended to three hours due to one girl being almost painfully bad at bourrees), and an hour of chemistry tests, it was no surprise that her body was protesting. The line moved one space forward, then the sound of her name hit her ears again.

"Natalia. Natalia, please answer me." This time around the girl whined, however she was careful to be sure it still came out quiet enough to not be heard by anyone other than Natalia. There were guards by the walls and you weren't supposed to take to one another in the lunch room. Natalia had recognized the voice the second she spoke; that was Anastasia, a blonde, frightful, painfully petite six year-old who seemed to think Natalia was her big sister or guardian or something of that sort. Natalia thought she was probably delusional.

"Stop talking, Ana," Natalia responded bluntly, sparing no glance at the younger girl as she stepped forward.  
Anastasia heeded her warning, or at least tried to. She fiddled with her fingers, picking at the peeled skin surrounding her fingernails and the scabs over her knuckles. These had healed over cuts acquired in fights as well as by the bitter bite of a rusted metal ruler to the skin. Behind her, Natalia could practically feel Ana quietly bouncing. To her own dismay, Natalia was starting to feel badly, yet she kept quiet. Natalia was good at keeping quiet.

Anastasia, however, was not so gifted. "Natalia, please!" Anastasia exclaimed, still in a whispered tone.

"What, Ana," Natalia said with a soft sigh, her voice easily expressing her annoyance. She was tired and entirely not in the mood for theatrics, well, even more so than usual.

"Did you see it?" Anastasia asked desperately.

Natalia's response started with a quiet "What are you talking-" but ended prematurely. Natalia mentally slapped herself. Of course she knew what Ana was talking about. She found it worrying that she had almost forgotten. "Oh," Natalia said, shifting uncomfortably in her spot in line. "No, I haven't." It was the truth; Natalia had a physical that morning and didn't have time to look over the list that killed a girl every year.

"W-what did it-" angry with herself for letting her voice falter, Natalia cleared her throat carefully. She was afraid, truthfully afraid. Ana could hear it in her words and she couldn't blame her. One of the teachers had let it slip that Yelena was going to be on that list this year. That teacher was gone now. "Who is it?" Natalia's voice did not falter this time around, her eyes steady.

" _It's me, Natalia_."


End file.
